


Bitches Get Glitches

by aparticularbandit



Series: The Time of Your Life [2]
Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Soulmate timer Au, jane might be /slightly/ homophobic when it comes to the idea of herself with another woman, just a heads up on that, uses the narrator as a separate character from mateo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 02:10:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20827670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aparticularbandit/pseuds/aparticularbandit
Summary: In which Jane's soulmate timer also kind of sucks.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't anticipate continuing this series, but in the comments I know a lot of you asked for more of the last one. I started brainstorming out a different soulmate au because that's what y'all voted on in one of the early polls, and then...while I was writing A Christmas at Longbourne - /this/ idea came to me (or it may have been earlier, but I remember distinctly wanting to write this when I was finishing up ACAL).
> 
> So for those of you who have been waiting, here's the next, unexpected, part.

_Alright, friends! Welcome back! Let me just catch you up!_

_Last time you were here, our Jane was nowhere to be seen! In fact, we were following the timers of two other characters entirely – Luisa and her evil stepmother Rose. But this time—_

**Shut. Up.**

* * *

Jane Gloriana Villanueva was fourteen years old when her soulmate timer went off for the first time. It’s not an event she’d been able to erase from her memory, but she liked to try and _not_ think about it as much as she could. Besides, her time was still going! It reset itself almost as soon as it went off! That was probably just a fluke! Definitely a fluke! There was absolutely _no way_ her timer went off for anyone other than her soulmate!

Especially not in the middle of her bedroom when she was all alone right when she was waking up for school!

Timers didn’t go off when people were by themselves! That’s ridiculous!

The bright white flash had illuminated the walls before she’d even been able to turn her lamp on, and her eyes had flown directly to the **00:00:00:00:00** seared into her skin. It glowed white hot for all of a second – or a heartbeat, whichever was longer – and then the numbers flickered, whirled, and showed a different number entirely. Then her timer began to steadily tick down again.

It wasn’t her fault. The anticipation of her timer finally counting down to zero had paralyzed her, and she’d been awake in her bed. When she tried to go to sleep, she’d dream that she’d missed the timer somehow or that it was the pimple-covered buck-toothed boy at school who kept calling her names and pulling on her hair. Then her eyes would snap open, her heart racing. Her eyes had finally drifted closed again while staring at her timer, watching it count closer and closer to zero.

Jane had always been reassured that it was impossible to sleep through the moment when her timer zeroed out, and while that had been true, it certainly didn’t help matters at all.

She was still in her bed, in her room, completely alone with what must have been a glitch.

_Now, our Jane wouldn’t be who she was without doing her fair amount of research!_

**Shut up!**

Okay, yes, admittedly, Jane _had_ done some research, and there _were_ past instances of people whose timers went off for random and as yet still unknown reasons. In a lot of those cases, the timer started back up again, just like hers had, as though a glitch had occurred in its system. That was better than people like her mother, whose timer had gone off for her father right before he was sent into war never to return, and it’s certainly better than those poor souls born _without_ the timer, who everyone knew were destined to live lives alone and incomplete. Not lesser, but _pitiable_.

But Jane didn’t have to worry about any of that. She still had a timer of her own, obviously, and it was still counting down to some random day when she would be <strike>fourteen</strike>—

Well, _now_ when she would be in her twenties. After the whole glitch thing and the reset, it had given itself a whole new date and time.

Technically, Jane would be 22 years, 342 days, 17 hours, 33 minutes, and 35 seconds old when her timer zeroed out <strike>again</strike>.

34 seconds.

33.

Look, it didn’t _matter_, did it? That would be years in the future – eight years in the future – which would be plenty of time to make sure that she was with other people and not alone in her room. Like last time.

Which wasn’t _really_ a time. It was just a glitch. Obviously a glitch. Those were documented, and it was a glitch. Of course it was.

It certainly didn’t have anything to do with the appearance of that Latin narrator voice in her head.

* * *

_Of course, none of this was how it happened in the telenovelas Jane had grown so fond of seeing. Her favorites played up the hero who watched his timer count down only to find, when he saw a woman and when her timer flashed, that his numbers had been changed to something else entirely! The woman would be convinced he was her soulmate – he _would_ be her soulmate! – but he would convince her to let him go!_

_Only at the end, when everything seemed most lost, would Rogelio de la Vega – her favorite star by far – glance up and look straight into the eyes of a woman he’d never seen before. Both of their timers would flash, almost like they were in sync, and he would take her in his arms. They were meant to be together._

_But, my dear friends, Jane’s story was not so simple._

* * *

History often repeats itself. Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Or, in writing terms, _parallels_.

* * *

Once again, Jane was plagued with bad dreams, and once again, Jane’s eyes flickered closed to the visual whir of her timer hours before it went off, and once again, Jane woke up to find herself running late, but this time, it wasn’t so much to the anticipated zeroing of her timer but to the appointment she’d intentionally scheduled ahead of it to make sure that she was out and awake and with people when it went off.

_If everything went correctly,_ Jane would be out of the gynecologist’s office with over an hour left to spare before running into her soulmate.

At least, that was what Jane told herself as she left the house she still shared with her mother and her abuela that morning. Or, that was what she _would_ tell herself if all of the aforementioned sleep issues hadn’t happened and if she wasn’t running so astoundingly _late_ – which would be bad enough on a normal morning but could have disastrous effects on the whole _soulmate timer_ thing because it _should_ mean that she was pushing the time back, it _should_ cause the numbers in her timer to spin, spin, spin as they tried to reset for the _running late_ thing, but nothing was changing, which meant that, somehow, the timer knew her well enough to know that she would be late and accounted for it.

And, running this late, there was a possibility that she wouldn’t make it out of the gynecologist with over an hour to spare. Maybe it would be less.

Maybe it might even be—

* * *

Jane took a deep breath and made herself close her eyes as she lay back on the fake leather patient’s chair. She _had_ to. It’s a mixture of the exhaustion from running and racing after oversleeping and the growing anxiety that her timer still hadn’t changed and was still counting down and seemed more and more like it would happen when she might be just on her way out of the gynecologist’s clinic, and if she was out on the street and it went off, then there was a possibility that she wouldn’t see who her soulmate actually _was_, and even if it _did_ go off once before (and she refused to believe that was the case – it _didn’t_ because that was a _glitch_ and it jumped _right back into a new time_ and _glitches happened and it happened for her_), maybe it wouldn’t reset again after this.

Maybe this was her one chance.

Maybe—

Jane snapped awake to the sound of a woman’s voice – a doctor, talking to her about…something. It wasn’t small talk, and she answered what she imagined must be appropriately while she considered the implications of _her specific_ gynecologist being out of town for a wedding. More, she couldn’t help but notice that this woman, who was _not_ her normal gynecologist, spoke with a voice she didn’t recognize. Worse still, she _couldn’t see her_, which was infuriating, or, really, _not_ infuriating, just _odd_ that this female stranger was _down there_ and—

**Oh.**

**Ok.**

Jane sat up a little straighter on the fake leather chair (it’s _really_ uncomfortable for a situation that was already uncomfortable) and just barely caught a glimpse of the woman’s dark brown hair and a nametag that read _Dr. Luisa Alver_ as she felt the cold gloves _touching her_—

And all of a sudden, _her timer flashed_.

Dr. Alver appeared not to notice, pulling away and mentioning that _she’s done_ while Jane stared at the timer seared into her wrist where its little numbers have reached **00:00:00:00:00** and was still glowing a bright white that was rapidly fading.

This couldn’t be happening.

She couldn’t—

No.

_No._

“Wait!”

Dr. Alver stopped with one hand on the doorknob and the other in one of the pockets of her white doctor’s shirt and turned back with curious dark eyes and, okay, maybe she wasn’t so bad looking. For a girl. She wasn’t bad looking _for a girl_.

_And here, friends, is where Jane—_

**Shut. UP.**

“My timer went off.”

Dr. Alver seemed to freeze, and for a moment, Jane wasn’t sure that the other woman had heard her. But that thought was quickly thrown from her mind as the doctor’s eyes slowly widened. She didn’t glance down to her own wrist – Jane hadn’t even thought far enough to consider if hers had gone off; she’d just assumed that it had – that same blinding flash at exactly the same time – but the doctor wrapped one hand around her wrist where her timer should be as though to keep it hidden, as though it—

No. That didn’t help.

The doctor slowly moved away from the door and sat back down on her stool, tugging on the end of her sleeve so that it covered her when her wrist couldn’t. When Jane tried to sit up a little straighter, she placed a hand on Jane’s knee in what must have been an attempt at a comforting gesture. “Don’t move yet,” Dr. Alver said, and her voice was so soft.

It’s a nice voice.

Nice voice. Nice eyes. Okay, she wouldn’t be Jane’s _first_ choice – she would have liked _a guy_, thank you very much – but it…it could work. It _had_ to work. You know, the timer went off. That had to mean _something_.

Dr. Alver lifted her stool and moved over to sit closer to Jane’s face. Her hands clasped in her lap, one moving again to cover her own timer, and her eyes flicked to Jane’s wrist where it was still lit up. “When did it go off?” she asked in that same voice that doctors used when something could be very, very wrong.

“When you were down there,” Jane said, tilting her head in the appropriate direction. “I didn’t see you, really, until then, and when I looked down and saw you, it went off.” She took a deep breath and swallowed once. “I think it went off for you.”

“It went off for me,” the doctor repeated, gaze drifting away, “but mine….”

The doctor’s voice faded away as she pressed her lips together and nodded once to herself, and when she finally looked up again to meet Jane’s eyes, Jane could see something light and green and lifeless in them, like seaweed floating on top of the ocean or mold growing on rocks in a river. Then the doctor smiled, and the green seemed to glow with the same light that her own timer was.

It’s…_nice_.

“Can I talk with you? A little bit?” Jane asked, and her voice was unsure. She didn’t know how this was supposed to go. No, she _knew_ how it was _supposed_ to go, how she’d _imagined_ it would go, but this wasn’t anything like what she’d imagined at all. “When...when do you get off? I can come back, and we can talk then.”

Dr. Alver smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes the way it had before. “Give me thirty minutes,” she said. “I have one more patient waiting for me, but we have built in breaks for soulmate occurrences. They’ll give us some time.” She lifted her hand as though to brush it through Jane’s hair, then she hesitated and placed it on the cool metal bars of the chair instead, gripping it to pull herself up. “You just stay here, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Jane nodded once.

Dr. Alver’s smile grew, then, and it seemed as though the other woman almost relaxed. “I’ll be back, Ms. Villanueva. Don’t worry.”

It wasn’t until Dr. Alver shut the door behind her that Jane’s brows furrowed. _Don’t worry._ Like she could do anything else.

* * *

Jane could hear Dr. Alver outside her door before the woman entered the room.

_That sounds creepy. Our Jane would have you know that she’s not creepy._

But she could hear the hand on the other side of the door and could see the way the knob started to turn. The door started to open and then _didn’t_ exactly in that way that _always_ seemed to happen whenever she went to the doctor’s office right before the doctor came in (even if it _didn’t_ happen every time, it certainly felt like it did)—

And then, there she was. Dr. Alver. Jane’s soulmate.

Who was, admittedly, still a woman.

That was still a shock. It would probably continue to be a shock. Jane had never imagined herself with, ah, a woman. But, you know, it’s the timer, and the timer went off, and she trusted her timer (despite the earlier glitch, which was, after all, a glitch) because she couldn’t really _control_ those things, so this…this _woman_…this woman was her soulmate.

She was.

_She was._

It’s just going to take some getting used to. A little bit. Just. _Just a little bit._

Jane sat up a little bit straighter on that same uncomfortable fake leather patient’s chair that she hadn’t moved from while she’d waited. Her eyes had been drawn to the different posters on the walls, which she had seen maybe a hundred times or more but had mostly avoided because they hadn’t been meant for someone like her yet – those pictures of the different stages of a fetus as it grew in its mother’s womb – and she’d thought, you know, _eventually_ that would mean her, but with a woman, well. She guessed probably not.

Or maybe she would? She really didn’t know. She hadn’t really considered this possibility.

At least her knees were together this time. That was a plus. And Dr. Alver had removed that white doctor’s coat that all doctors wore, revealing the shirt the same color as her doctor’s gloves and a barely knee length skirt with a little blue fireworks pattern – or maybe it was a fan – on a white background with a black band across the top. Not anything Jane would wear _herself_, but it…

It looked nice. It did. She did.

_Okay, friends, maybe it will take our Jane _more_ than a little bit of time to get used to this. Her soulmate’s a freaking woman!_

**Shut up. _Please_ shut up.**

Dr. Alver smiled, relaxed almost, as she shut the door behind her. “Well, Ms. Villanueva—”

“Jane, you can call me Jane.”

“Jane,” the other woman repeated, and it’s still just as soft as it was before, the softest of echoes, and that _smile_ again that wasn’t quite happy or sad—

_And our Jane is a writer, so she has the exact right word for—_

**I told you to _shut up_.**

Dr. Alver glanced down and away, and that was when her smile shifted into something a little more genuine, albeit quite a bit more awkward. “They’ve given me the rest of the day off, which,” and here the doctor stepped forward, brown hair brushing across her shoulders, and sat down on the stool again, pulling it forward, “is probably not a great idea since one of the other doctors already called in – like I told you earlier – and we were already short staffed, _but_,” and she placed one hand on Jane’s knee again, almost without thinking, “we have the rest of the day,” and then it’s as though she realized what she was doing and she flinched away, moving her hand back to her own lap, and said, “if you want it. And you don’t _have_ to want it. Soulmates and timers can be very complicated things, especially if I’m not what you thought I would be, and—”

_Leaping lizards, this woman is more anxious than Jane is!_

And, for once, Jane didn’t tell the Latin narrator voice in her head to shut up because, well, she couldn’t help but agree, even if she wouldn’t really call herself _anxious_.

“You’re _fine_.” The words were hesitant, and Jane wasn’t sure she _meant_ them. But she still took the other woman’s hand in hers and maybe she didn’t put it back on her knee because that still felt a little much for her right now, but she _does_ hold it. She could do that. Just like with her best friend Lina whenever Lina was upset about something.

Only this wasn’t Lina. This was her soulmate.

And when Dr. Alver looked up with those warm brown eyes that were somehow lighter than her own, Jane could not help but feel relaxed.

“If you have the day,” Jane continued, “then let’s take it. You can tell me everything about yourself. We can get something to eat.” That one was maybe her own selfish priorities coming out in full force. There hadn’t been enough time for her to eat a proper breakfast before catching the bus and running over here, and with everything going on, she felt like she was starving. “Do you cook?”

“No, I don’t, I,” and Dr. Alver huffed a little laugh, looking up, “I _dabble_ with some of my mother’s old recipes, but they never taste _right_, you know? There’s always _something_ missing.” Then she looked back down into Jane’s eyes. “But I make one _hell_ of a grilled cheese sandwich.”

And that was when it started – not the familiar glow that Jane saw in telenovelas, but certainly a softening of something. Jane couldn’t keep the tight-lipped grin from spreading or the little nod she gives once, twice, her eyes lighting up. “_Grilled cheese_, huh?”


	2. Chapter 2

Now, admittedly, neither Jane nor Luisa had any intention of taking the other to their house just yet. Even if Dr. Alver _was_ her soulmate, Jane wanted the two of them to spend time just with each other before she did the whole _meet and greet_ with the rest of her family, and it seemed that the other woman was just fine with that. For her part, Luisa didn’t suggest that Jane go back to her house either, and on finding out that Jane didn’t have a car of her own, she didn’t suggest she drive her anywhere either, instead agreeing to take the bus with her or, if it was close, to walk to wherever they went. This, too, helped Jane relax. It’s as though the doctor understood how terrifying it could be to suddenly have a veritable stranger as her soulmate and the general wariness that came from _yes, I know, we fit, but stranger danger?_

Which was how Jane found herself sitting at a _not quite fine_ but _not quite not fine_ restaurant – not so posh as to make her feel uncomfortable in her normal everyday wear but not a fast food joint because, as she was happy to find, her soulmate actually had good taste (and it surprised her that she _was_ surprised, given that _this was her soulmate_). She’d been a little overwhelmed with the glass walls when they first arrived, but the view of the ocean from where they sat was captivating. As much as Jane wanted to focus on the woman across from her and their conversation – mostly small talk and those first forays into the awkwardness of getting to know someone intimately within moments of meeting – her eyes kept being drawn away to the water, to the calm sparkle where it reflected the sun, to the ships that would occasionally float by.

Not posh, but perhaps a little more than she’d thought to expect. But, then, Luisa was a doctor. She was well off. Jane would never have been able to afford this place on her own.

Eventually, Jane took Luisa’s wrist in her hand and pulled it gently across the table so that she could see the other woman’s timer. It mimicked her own in shape and style, but the numbers had died and been replaced with dashes for what appeared to be a long, long time. Their edges were scratched with pick marks as though the doctor had been trying to remove it with little success. Even though she already knew there had been no echoing flash, Jane couldn’t help but feel her heart falter the slightest bit when she was confronted with the lack of that twenty-four hour soft glow and **00:00:00:00:00** that came from a zeroed out timer – the same glow and numbers her own timer now displayed.

_This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go._

“So you’ve done all this before?” Jane asked as they finished their lunch. She already knew that at a later point she would sit on the porch with her mother and abuela discussing this, dissecting the situation and her feelings about it. There might even be some tears.

_Oh, there will be tears, friends. Our Jane has a tendency to wear her emotions on her sleeve with people she loves, and she’s not sure she—_

**She is my soulmate. I love her. She loves me. Stop questioning it.**

Luisa – and Jane has grown more accustomed to using the little doctor’s first name while they were on the bus in an attempt to relieve the pressure to everything in the same way that Jane had attempted to relieve it by offering _her_ first name – _not_ that there should be _any_ pressure _at all_ with meeting _her soulmate_ or that Jane hadn’t imagined that their discussion would just _flow completely naturally without even thinking_ or—

Luisa’s eyes fell, and they widened a bit as her head tilted to one side in that way it did when, as Jane was slowly coming to realize, she was trying to avoid a conversation or was uncomfortable with its topic. “Oh, I wouldn’t say I’ve done _this_,” and she looked up, meeting Jane’s eyes with her own in something almost like a wince, “before. I’ve done _a lot_ of things before, but _this_—” She made a gesture with her other hand between them but left her other wrist out, exposed, for Jane to keep in her hand. “I met a woman once at a bar. It didn’t end well. She’s….” Luisa hesitated, and her features almost seemed to soften as she considered the woman her timer had determined was _her_ soulmate. When she continued, her voice was a different flavor of soft than the one she’d used with Jane earlier – fond and full of what Jane would call _yearning_ instead of trying to reveal that there was something fatally wrong with her. “She’s married now,” she said and pressed her lips together before shaking her head. “It’s complicated.” She drew her hand back, not in an attempt to hide what Jane had already seen, just in that way of drawing it back into her lap.

_Oh, I can see that flicker of green in Jane’s eyes, friends! Or is it that red hot rage we’ve come to expect from—_

**My temper is not that bad.**

“Do you still see her?” Jane asked instead, resting her head in her hand, hair artfully cast over it.

Luisa’s brows rose, and there was only another slight hesitation before she laughed. “_Yes_,” she said, eyes moving away from Jane to her glass of water with a little sigh.

And it’s then that Jane understood maybe a little of Luisa’s softness with her. Not that Luisa understood everything about her situation, maybe, but that she seemed to understand what it was to have her timer go off without the echoing flash from the other person. “She’s married to _her_ soulmate, isn’t she?”

“No,” Luisa said immediately and a little too loud, shaking her head, her eyes wide as they snapped back up to gaze, confused, at Jane’s face. “_I’m_ her soulmate. I saw the flash. I—” She cut herself off and pressed her lips together and swallowed once. “It’s _complicated_,” she said finally.

_She’s hiding something from me._

Luisa shifted, resting her elbows on the table as she seemed to force herself to focus on Jane again. “And you?” she asked, eyes flicking to Jane’s wrist. “Is this your first—?”

“Yes,” Jane said just as quickly as Luisa had just said _no_, followed by a wince and an exasperated sigh and, “There was this _glitch_. Once. When I was fourteen. _But I did my research_, and timers _do_ glitch sometimes, so—”

“I had a glitch, too!” Luisa exclaimed. She looked down to where her hands now lay on the table. “When I was six years old, right around the time my mom died, my timer stopped and then started back up again before I could begin to process it. I never told anyone about that, though.”

“Well, that’s something we have in common,” Jane said a little too quick. She was still searching for something that made her timer go off – because there had to be _something_ that made that whole _soulmate connection_ work – and it had to be something she could see and understand – until she parsed back through what her soulmate had just said. Her eyes lifted. “Your mother died when you were six?”

Luisa didn’t seem to realize that she’d mentioned that until she heard it echoed back to her. She nodded once, slowly. “Mmhm.” Her lips rolled together, and she avoided Jane’s eyes. “I really don’t like to talk about that, although I guess we’ll probably talk about it eventually, so maybe sooner is better than later.” She nodded again a little bit to herself.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks.” Luisa smiled a bit, and then her head tilted to one side. “I should _probably_ tell you that I have a wife.”

Jane’s face fell. “Oh.”

“But we probably won’t be together much longer,” Luisa continued. “_Not_,” and here she looked up from her hands where they were folded together and met Jane’s eyes with her own wide ones, “because of _you_ or anything, but I caught her—” She swallowed once, another abrupt stop. “It’s not working out. Probably because we aren’t soulmates. Although there are a lot of instances of marriages between people working out even when they aren’t soulmates. My brother, for instance. His marriage seems to be doing okay. But that’s supposed to end shortly, too. Contract. His timer’s supposed to go off sometime this year, and he wants to be free for whoever it goes off for.”

Jane nodded her head once. She’d researched a lot of _that_, too, but she hadn’t wanted to risk a relationship with someone when her timer still hadn’t gone off. Certainly a lot of the other girls at school had, but…she wasn’t that kind of girl. Or _guy_, if Luisa’s brother was to be believed. It had seemed weird to consider a marriage before her timer went off. What if she fell in love with someone who wasn’t her soulmate? It seemed like everyone would just get hurt in that situation. She wasn’t the kind of girl who could disentangle herself so easily from that sort of thing.

Or, at least, she _thought_ she wasn’t that kind of girl, but then she thought she wasn’t a lesbian either, and her timer was already proving that wrong, so who knew _who_ she could really be? There might be a whole side to her she had yet to explore!

“Look.” Jane reached across the table again, but Luisa’s hands were hidden beneath it again. She couldn’t be comforting the way she meant to be, not without reaching out somewhere she didn’t want to reach out to just yet, not without feeling extremely uncomfortable. “Let’s not assume that we have to get married or anything like that. Let’s just be friends and get to know each other first.”

She hated saying it.

Her entire life had been building to this moment when her timer finally went off – _not_ the glitch, but the _actual_ time with an _actual_ person – and here that actual person _was_ and she was certain that Luisa felt just as disappointed as she did. Not because Luisa’s timer went off and Jane wasn’t what she expected, but because she seemed to have her own complications with the timer without having to worry about having an unrequited soulmate along with all of that.

She paused.

_Unrequited soulmate._

Jane never thought she would end up being one. But then, who did?

_Oh, no. She’s starting to choke up! Stay strong, Jane!_

Luisa looked up and met her eyes again, and everything about her was still so _soft_ and, instead of thanking her or saying anything that might stay on that subject or respond to it at all, she said, instead, “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

And, despite herself, Jane nodded. “Sure. Where do you want to go?”

* * *

_Now, friends, I want to tell you that our Jane has lived in Miami all of her life. She’s even lived in the same house, sharing it with her mother and her abuela! It still holds the same marks on the inside of the kitchen from where they checked her height as she grew up. So it was very unlikely that this new soulmate of hers would be able to take her anywhere she didn’t already know about, even if she maybe hadn’t been inside._

_But Jane left her heart open – much to my surprise! – and maybe it was that mention that Luisa could make a mean grilled cheese sandwich or maybe it was that soft sort of sadness she carried around with her everywhere, but our Jane could feel herself—_

**Can’t you leave me alone for five minutes? I’m on a date! Shoo!**

* * *

Luisa led Jane down the boardwalk. She kept her hands shoved in the pockets of her skirt – something that wasn’t as rare to find for someone who had the money to spend to have clothes specifically made for or tailored to her – _not_ that all of her clothes had hidden pockets somewhere on them (although many of them did), but that the clothes she needed for work in particular often did. It did wonders when mothers brought their children along with them for pregnancy check-ups; she could pull a lollipop out of seemingly nowhere and look like a magician and then the children _loved_ her – and it was always nice to feel loved.

Her heels click-clacked along the sidewalk, not loud enough for her to hear, but there was something comforting about knowing that they did, about knowing they still had that same sort of echoing clunk as they had when she walked down the hallways at her clinic. Maybe the sound would be a little more scratched from the sidewalk instead of the tile or maybe a little more hollow since they were outside, but it was nice to know that there was something about today that she could hold onto, that she could count as reliable.

Especially since everything else seemed…up in the air.

For her part, the past twenty-four hours felt like the beginning of her own special little hell, and while Luisa couldn’t question what she did to deserve it, a part of her wondered why it had taken so long to finally begin. Or maybe it started on that fourth of July so long ago when her timer went off for what must have been the final time – it hadn’t picked back up again since then, so there was no reason to believe that it would – and when her soulmate, finally human, had a timer that went off for her as well.

It hadn’t mattered that Rose had tried to hide the gentle glow; when they were alone back in that Fort Lauderdale hotel room, she’d noticed it. It was impossible not to see the glow the same as the one on her own wrist. In fact, it had made everything seem much more magical than it already had, much more permanent.

And yet.

“There’s a donut vendor over here,” Luisa said, looking over to the woman next to her. She was taller than this soulmate – if Jane could even be called that, given that Jane wasn’t _her_ soulmate even though Luisa was, somehow, _hers_ – and even taller with the heels on. Jane wore flats. She probably hadn’t expected her timer to go off with her replacement ob/gyn – who _would_ expect that, come to think of it? – and had probably more likely expected that it would go off afterwards, in a crowd full of people, and that she would need to run after whoever it was she saw. Or maybe she’d thought they would meet eyes over a crowded street and just _know_ – that sort of telenovela feeling with the hearts that begin to glow in weird colors and that magnetic attraction that would pull them towards each other – instead of meeting eyes over….

Well.

“Well, he’s _mostly_ a funnel cake vendor, but if you ask him nicely, he _always_ has a stash of fried dough that he uses to make donuts. They’re _really_ good. A friend of mine—”

And Luisa stopped abruptly.

It’s _hard_ not to talk about her other actual soulmate. The paired one. It wasn’t as though her life revolved around her – in fact, most of it right now revolved around trying not to think about her, around trying to find some way for what they had to continue without carving a hole in her already battered chest – but so much of her life here was marked by their time together that not bringing her up…was rough.

And when she was avoiding mentioning Rose, it was even harder to avoid mentioning Allison.

Her wife.

Soon to be _ex_-wife.

Who she wasn’t thinking about.

No matter how many times the phone in her pocket went off.

She was on a date with her…_not_ soulmate.

Okay, maybe it’s not really a _date_ date, but it’s close enough that she could use the phrase. Unless Jane wasn’t using it.

Of course Jane wasn’t using it. Why would Jane be using it?

This was a lot more complicated than when she first met Rose. But, hopefully, it would be a lot more straight-forward than what happened _after_ she met Rose. Jane couldn’t marry her dad, after all, considering he was already happily married.

To her soulmate.

Barf.

She wasn’t thinking about that either.

There were _a lot_ of things Luisa was trying _really hard_ not to think about and she really, really hoped that Jane wouldn’t end up as just another one of those things. (Jane was already one of those things, but she wasn’t thinking about _that_ yet either.)

“Here.”

Luisa startled as Jane placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking her out of her thoughts. She looked over to the other woman and took a deep breath. _Calm, Luisa._

“You know, we really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

The glow on Jane’s wrist where her timer still flashed **00:00:00:00:00** like an alarm beacon drew Luisa’s eye, and she swallowed once as her gaze flicked back to her own, muted one. “I know,” she replied, her voice soft, “but regardless of what my timer thinks you’re supposed to mean to me, _yours_ obviously thinks I’m important to you, and I don’t want to cut that off entirely.” Her gaze moved to meet Jane’s eyes – warm, like caramel – and she offered her a small smile. “No one should have to live thinking that they’re unwanted by the person they’re supposed to be spending their entire life with.”

Truth be told, Jane wasn’t really her type either. _Blondes_ were her type, not that her own timer took that into consideration (and certainly hadn’t when her brother found his own _not soulmate_ wife, who was…blonde). _Tall_ was her type (and she should be grateful that her timer followed that perk, but the Rose situation was too complicated for her to focus entirely on just the positives of her appearance – and Rose was a type all her own). _Women_ were her type – so if she made it that broad, Jane fit.

Not that Jane was her soulmate. She wasn’t. _Rose_ was. But in some way, shape, or form, _she_ was _Jane’s_.

She ached.

“But I’m not your soulmate.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Luisa’s head tilted ever so gently to one side, and she smiled again – a bright thing, she hoped, instead of the somber smiles she’d been giving earlier, which she knew from experience weren’t her normal ones. So much had happened in the past twenty-four hours that it was still hard to take it all in, even harder to focus on just this aspect when she still had her cheating wife waiting at her house for her to deal with.

“C’mon.” Luisa took Jane’s hand in her own, careful not to tangle their fingers together, and led her over to the funnel cake vendor. “Two cinnamon donuts, please,” she said with a bright grin, and she turned to Jane with eyes wide with her own bravado. “You _do_ like donuts, right? And cinnamon? You’re not one of those gluten-free people?”

“No, no. Donuts are good.”

The vendor glared at Luisa. “You have to quit ordering donuts here. I make funnel cakes. Tell your girlfriend—”

Luisa’s grin froze, and her eyes shifted from the vendor to Jane and then back again. “What girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

The vendor’s gaze followed Luisa’s to Jane, and he gave Luisa a dead look before looking back over to Jane. “You her girlfriend?”

Jane’s eyes widened. “Soulmate,” she corrected, lips pursed into a not quite smile of her own, brows raising. Then she lifted her wrist, showing the timer where it glowed in her skin. “Don’t worry, I won’t order donuts.” Her eyes drifted over to the carnival behind him with the lights just flashing blue, red, white – like synthesized, controlled firework displays – then returned to him. “My family’s not _big_ on these things anyway.”

The vendor gave her a strong look before turning back to Luisa. “I like the other one better.”

Luisa just continued to smile. “Donuts? Please?”

“Coming right up.”

For some reason, Jane hadn’t dropped her hand. Luisa didn’t even notice it until she was given a gentle squeeze. She glanced over to her _not_ soulmate, but Jane wasn’t looking at her. She wondered but didn’t think before asking, “Did you want your soulmate to be a girl?”

Jane’s face froze just as much as hers had when the vendor had mentioned Rose, and that was enough of an answer for her.

“Here you are,” the vendor said, handing over two paper plates, each with a large fried doughnut covered in a thick layer of cinnamon and powdered sugar with two plastic cups in the middle – one with cream cheese and the other full of strawberries. “Enjoy.”

“We will,” Luisa said with her still too-bright grin, pulling cash out of her pocket and handing it over. There’s a loud scream from a passenger on one of the rollercoasters across from them, and they both flinch. “Normally it’s not so loud.” Luisa gave Jane’s hand a squeeze back, then walked with her over to the nearby barricade, where they could hear the ocean lapping loud against the wall behind them instead of the customers at the carnival nearby, which they could still look at if they wanted. Her fingers began to pick at the over large donut, brow furrowing, before she said, finally, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jane shook her head, and it’s an easy motion, but she didn’t look up from the paper plate in her hands. “My timer went off for you, and my timer’s right, so I guess…. It’s just an avenue I hadn’t thought about. But I can rethink things. Must be something I didn’t know about myself. That’s something that happens to people all of the time.”

“You expected a guy.”

“I expected a guy.” Jane’s eyes still didn’t lift from the doughnut. She hadn’t eaten any of it yet. “And, you know, it’s not anything against _you personally_,” she said, and then her eyes lifted, but they still didn’t quite meet Luisa’s, “I’ve just never really been…you know.”

“I know.”

“But I’m really good at trying new things, and sometimes, if you try something new, you can find out that you liked it more than you initially thought.” Jane’s gaze returned to the doughnut, and she pulled a piece of it off before dipping it in the cream cheese. “Like this – I’d never thought about asking a funnel cake vendor for a cinnamon doughnut, and I never thought about dipping it in cream cheese, but I’m trying it now and—” She popped the piece between her lips, chewed it a couple of times, and then smiled. “It’s really good.”

Luisa smiled. She _tried_ to smile. But there was—

_Nngh._

There was a smear of cream cheese and cinnamon across the top of Jane’s upper lip. And she didn’t…. She _didn’t_ want to do anything about it, but the more Jane ate, the worse the smear got, until finally, her stomach churning, Luisa reached over. “You’ve got something right—”

It’s not habit to reach over and brush the smear away, but it _was_ habit to stick her thumb between her lips and lick the cinnamon and cream cheese off. Her eyes widened as she realized what she’d done. Luisa swallowed quickly and shook her head. “That’s not meant to be— _It’s not_, I’m just so used to—”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, _really_.”

But Jane’s voice didn’t sound like _it’s okay_, Jane’s voice sounded like something was wrong and uncomfortable.

“Jane, it’s _fine_ if it’s not okay.” Luisa shook her head again, and her lips pressed together. The kids at the carnival were yelling so loud today. Normally, she couldn’t even hear them. “Look, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. There are a lot of people who don’t get on with their soulmate or who have to—”

_And that, my dear friends, is when our Jane does something she never in a million years believed she would ever do!_

_She kissed a girl!_

* * *

The kiss was awkward and jarring, in part because Jane didn’t know what she was doing and in part because Luisa hadn’t expected it. Their teeth knocked together, and then their foreheads knocked together, and the accompanying moans weren’t _happy_ ones but _painful_ ones. Worse, the paper plates with what was left of their doughnuts slipped from their laps into the ocean below, not that either of them really minded that so much.

It was then that Jane couldn’t stop the tears from filling her eyes. This was too much. _Too much!_ It was horrible! She leaned back and pressed her hand to her forehead, and the first thing she could say, her throat already growing raw, was, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t—”

But almost at once, Luisa’s hand was cupping her face, thumb brushing along the tears pooling on her cheek. “Jane. Be honest with me. Please.”

Jane didn’t want to say anything. She felt like she was whining. Not just complaining, but actually _whining_. But she couldn’t help it. “This is _horrible_, isn’t it?” she asked, trying to avoid Luisa’s eyes. “You’re stuck with me when your timer didn’t go off, and I’m stuck unable to be a soulmate to _my_ soulmate, and _you’re not what I expected_, and I can’t even _kiss you_ right.” Her eyes flicked up to finally meet Luisa’s. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” she said, her voice close to a whisper, that kind of plea that couldn’t make itself louder for fear of breaking.

“Ok.”

And it was that same stupid somber _sad_ smile on Luisa’s face like she was trying to make everything feel better when there wasn’t any possible way it could be better but at least it felt nice to finally cry and to have someone brush her tears away. She took a deep breath. “And my first kiss with my soulmate…kissing you shouldn’t _feel_ like that.”

Luisa nodded once, then, her voice just as quiet as Jane’s was, she asked, “Would you mind if I tried?”

“Tried wha—?”

Then Jane fell silent as she finally understood what Luisa was asking her. A part of her revolted from the very idea – not because she thought it was wrong, but because that last try had been so phenomenally horrible, she didn’t want to do anything like that again. And yet, despite that wariness, she found herself nodding anyway, slow at first, and then finally stilling.

And, at her permission, Luisa leaned forward and—

The voice in her head that had been needlessly narrating the entire thing with witty comments and disbelief suddenly fell quiet.

When Luisa moved away, Jane gave a slight _hm_, licked her lips once, and then opened her eyes to a woman that seemed content with however she responded – good, bad, or anything in-between. She nodded once as though considering, then said, finally, “Can we do that again?”

Luisa grinned – a bright thing, like the sun breaking through the clouds after a day of rain – and Jane thought maybe all of her other expressions had been full of some unspoken weight but this one…. This one wasn’t. This one was right.

And when Luisa kissed her again, she thought she saw something sparkling in the distance.

_Fireworks._

* * *

Luisa took a deep breath as she….

Well.

Luisa took a deep breath as she entered her room at the Marbella alone. She shouldn’t have a room at her brother’s hotel anymore, shouldn’t _need_ to have one, but he had wrapped her fingers around the card packet with the room number etched into it and told her that if she ever needed to be somewhere, if she ever needed a breather, or if she and Allison ever needed a mini-vacation, she would always have a room at his hotel. At the time, she’d been certain that she would never need it (except for that vacation idea, which was very thoughtful of him – and she blamed his wife for that). She had a wife. She had a house. She wouldn’t need a breather from her _not soulmate spouse_ in the same way her brother wouldn’t.

And yet, here she was, not even a week later, houseless, wifeless, and breaking the new room in.

The first thing she did as the door slipped shut behind her was check the fridge and the minibar only to find them both completely empty.

Good. _Good._ She hadn’t really wanted to drink anyway.

Her fingers itched, and she dialed the number before she even realized what she was doing.

“Rose?” she spoke into the receiver, listening to the familiar, soothing voice on the other end. “I need to talk to you.” Her fingers pressed into the rumpled fabric of her skirt.

“We…we have a _problem_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ROISA SCENE NEXT CHAPTER.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY A WILD ROSE APPEARS.
> 
> This chapter also does some world-building in relation to the timer au as a whole, and that should explain why there are differences in Rose and Luisa's relationship in this chapter as compared to the original series.
> 
> (If not, let me know, and I'll explain. There are aspects that aren't meant to be hidden, and if something's not hitting right in this case, that's me failing as a writer.)

Hours passed.

At least, it _felt_ like hours. In reality, it might have only been one. It might have even been shorter.

Luisa wasn’t paying attention to the actual time.

She paced from one end of her hotel room to the other, hands wringing together, the clack of her heels not quite as soothing as she’d imagined it was only a few hours – or less – _or more_ – before. Time was much more fluid without a timer etched into her wrist and constantly ticking downwards to an important event; as measured as it might still be, it felt like it melted in her hands. After what felt like far too long, she slipped out of her heels, leaving them just by the door, and forced herself to sit on her sofa. Her legs tucked up underneath her, and at first, her fingers rubbed into her aching ankles. Then they instinctively clutched the edge of the sofa, but when it proved to be a little too uncomfortable to sit hunched over like that, she instead took one of its throw pillows and held it tight against her chest. And then, when her fingers felt like they might break from being clinched so tight for so long, even on something as soft as one of the Marbella’s throw pillows (and they were _incredibly_ soft, as her father had insisted long before Rafael took over), she threw the pillow to one side and began to knead her forehead instead.

It’s too much. There’s _too much_.

The soft knock on her door came both too soon and after far too long. At first, Luisa didn’t move from her place curled tight on the sofa, afraid that she might be imagining the sound. Then it came again, a little louder, and she propelled herself from the couch, rushed across the room on stockinged feet, and opened the door before it could come a third time.

There, on the other side, was her one and only true soulmate. Her eyes met the other woman’s crystal blue ones, and she stilled. “Rose,” she murmured, and she relaxed, stepped back, and held the door open for the redhead to enter her hotel room.

Rose didn’t say anything until the door closed shut behind her, and even then, it’s another heartbeat past that before she bridged what little distance there was between them, brushing her fingers gingerly through Luisa’s hair. “How are you?” she asked. Her voice was soft, and her blue eyes searched Luisa’s hazel ones. “I got your message earlier. Is she—?”

Luisa nodded once. “Allison’s still at our house.” She looked down and away, swallowing once. “I didn’t want to see her. I didn’t—”

“It’s okay.” Instead of saying anything else, Rose pressed a kiss to Luisa’s forehead, and Luisa crumbled against her.

This felt so easy, so much easier than those awkward first steps with Jane earlier. By now, it was a reflex, in Rose’s presence, to just _be_.

Luisa took a deep breath and shuddered against her soulmate, burying her face in her chest. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come, despite the lump that had been slowly building in her throat all day. So, instead, she just looked back up and met Rose’s eyes again. “Kiss me,” she pleaded, and at her gentle request, her soulmate captured her lips with her own. Even the simplest, softest touch sent warmth spreading beneath her skin. Just as fluid as time seemed in her hands, she felt herself becoming in Rose’s. “Again,” she murmured when Rose pulled away. “Please.”

“You said you had something we needed to talk about.” Rose remained so close that her lips moved against Luisa’s. Her fingers curled gentle in her hair. “I’d rather have the news first before engaging in pleasure.”

Luisa took another deep breath. She didn’t want to say it. Her eyes flicked back down to Rose’s lips so close to her own but didn’t return back to meet her eyes. “Can’t we do something else?”

“Luisa.” Rose said her name, and it felt like her heart was freezing in her chest. Her soulmate stepped back then lifted her chin with one finger. “Look at me.”

She avoided her eyes.

“Look at me.”

Luisa moved her chin off of Rose’s finger and buried it into her chest again instead, hiding her face. Her arms wrapped around Rose’s waist, and the other woman began to brush her fingers through her hair again, a soft, soothing motion. “Luisa, you know that whatever it is, I’ll still love you. I’m your soulmate. That’s what we do. No matter what.”

That was supposed to help, but in truth, it really didn’t. Being reminded that she would always be loved was good; being reminded that Rose was her singular soulmate wasn’t. Still, Luisa found herself nodding into her soulmate’s chest. “I have another soulmate,” she mumbled, Rose’s chest muffling the sound.

“Hm?” Rose asked, continuing to massage along her scalp. “What did you say?”

It caught in her throat. She hadn’t wanted to say it the first time; she didn’t want to say it again. Luisa took another breath and forced herself to say it again, louder this time, enough that she was certain Rose would hear it. “I have another soulmate.”

The fingers brushing through her hair stilled.

Luisa looked up again, her eyes wide and her heart racing, but Rose was staring away from her out one of the windows, her jaw clenched so tight that her muscle popped underneath her skin. She didn’t consider her words this time, either, instead launching into an explanation that she hoped would satisfy the other woman. “Not – not – _my timer didn’t go off for her_,” she said and lifted her left wrist so that Rose could see the dashes still embedded into her skin. “_Her_ timer went off for _me_. _I_ don’t have another…. I’m _somebody else’s_….” Her hand reached up further, and she cupped Rose’s face as her soulmate still refused to answer her, thumb tracing along her jaw in another attempt to soothe her. “Rose.” She tried to meet her eyes. “_Talk to me._ You promised.”

Rose took Luisa’s offered wrist, moving her hand from her face, and examined the timer that held no glow and no change the way a fortuneteller might instead examine her palm. She ran her thumb across the dashes, softer along the scars where Luisa had tried to rip them out with her fingernails. Then she dropped her wrist, moved away from her, and sat on the couch with one ankle crossed just under the other the way a princess might. She tugged at the sleeve of her rosy blouse, covering her own timer, before clasping her hands in her lap. Her eyes lifted, watching Luisa curiously. “It would be easier, wouldn’t it? To be with someone else instead of a crime lord?”

Luisa stayed where she was, watching with her head tilted to one side as Rose curled up away from her on the couch, that sinking feeling tightening in the pit of her chest. But as her soulmate spoke, her lips curved upward in a smile – the same as the ones she’d been offering Jane throughout the day. “I don’t want easier.” She moved very carefully to sit next to Rose, allowing just enough space between them so that the other woman could move away if she wanted.

Her soulmate didn’t move – either away from her or towards her – still watching Luisa, eyes searching hers.

“I want _you_.” Luisa reached over to place her hand over the two Rose held clasped in her lap, and she gave them a gentle squeeze wen Rose didn’t flinch away. “We’ve made it work this long, haven’t we?”

“You got married.”

“_You_ told me I should,” Luisa snapped – it’s hard not to, with the burn of her wife cheating on her still so raw, “and look how _that_ turned out.”

“I didn’t think she would—”

“I didn’t either.”

Exclusion clauses in marriage contracts being what they were, it was a risky – even dangerous – maneuver. Soulmateless partners could be destroyed for lesser things. The entire point was to act as though they were soulmates during the time allotted by the contract – indefinitely, if there wasn’t one specified – often with severe legal (and social) consequences otherwise. Given her own indiscretions, which would be ignored in a court of law due to the soulmate clause, Luisa wouldn’t be pursuing any legal retribution against her soon to be ex-wife. There wouldn’t be any point. Right now, after what Allison said, she just wanted her gone.

Luisa began to trace circles on the back of Rose’s hand. “You can’t have her killed,” she said, her voice soft. “_Promise me_ you won’t have her killed.”

“No promises,” Rose murmured, but when Luisa looked up to meet her eyes, there was a mixed look on Rose’s face – a sort of smile like she _wanted_ to be joking, but it didn’t reach her eyes, which still held that little hint of murder to them. Despite everything, her soulmate’s protectiveness of her and how she should be treated still warmed her heart, even if she didn’t always agree with her desired actions.

Luisa reached over and cupped Rose’s cheek again, forcing her to face her instead of continuing to look away from her. “If _I_ don’t want you to kill my wife, then _you_ don’t get to pout and be upset about it. Don’t kill her.”

“She deserves it.”

“So do I, for seeing you.” Luisa brushed her thumb along the sharp line of Rose’s cheekbone. “And _she_ didn’t know my soulmate was a crime lord. You can’t fault her for that.”

“I can.” Rose offered her the barest hint of a smile, but it felt like she was baring her teeth instead. “We crime lords can be _very_ petty.”

“I’m still mad at her, but I don’t want you to kill her,” Luisa repeated in as firm of a voice as she could muster. “I don’t want you killing people.”

Rose sighed and collapsed back against the sofa. “You never let me have any fun.”

A joke. An actual joke. Luisa could see it twinkling in the light reflect in Rose’s bright blue eyes.

“I wouldn’t say _never_,” Luisa corrected. “Just a different _kind_ of fun.” She tried to smile, but then her eyes widened in realization. She tapped Rose’s arm with her finger. “And you can’t kill my…. _Jane_.” She met Rose’s eyes as her soulmate’s brow furrowed, trying to place the name. “The girl whose timer went off. That’s her name. Jane.”

Rose’s brow smoothed as her expression faded from confusion into a full on glare. “_That’s_ a plain name.”

“You can’t kill her either,” Luisa repeated again, stern. “You _have_ to learn to share.” She poked Rose’s arm with each word, making sure she was paying attention.

“That wasn’t our arrangement,” Rose said, her voice calm. She continued to stare straight ahead. “I have been sharing you for _five years_ now—”

“And _I’ve_ been sharing _you_,” Luisa said, flicking a finger against Rose’s nose, “so _you_ don’t get to complain.” She leaned back against the sofa, crossing her arms. “At least _you_ aren’t sharing me with your _dad_.”

Rose turned to fully face her, shoulder pressing into the back of the couch, and she reached over to turn Luisa’s face back toward her. “You know that’s not my choice.”

Luisa flinched away from her touch.

This, too, was an old argument. As old as Luisa’s demand that Rose not kill anyone, despite her criminal empire. And Luisa was already so tired by the events of the day and finding Allison _and fighting with Allison_ and all of it that she didn’t give in to her normal defensive desire to fight about it.

“There’s something else,” she said instead.

Rose’s head tilted ever so slightly to one side, her jaw tightening again. “What else?” she asked, her voice just as tense as her expression was.

As much as Luisa hadn’t wanted to admit that someone else’s timer had determined that she was their soulmate, _that_ was harder than this would be. This was easier. It was an old trick of hers – say the hard thing first, lead with that, and then she could push through everything else really quickly.

“I…might have accidentally artificially inseminated by not soulmate.” Luisa tried not to grin as she spoked – because it wasn’t a joke and it wasn’t funny – but the expression wouldn’t stay put. At her words, Rose’s face froze, and as it did, the grin slipped from Luisa’s face, replaced with eyes that were trying to shift away, waiting for Rose to say something – _anything_.

Rose blinked a couple of times, but she didn’t say anything. Maybe she just didn’t know _what_ to say. Luisa wouldn’t, if she were being told the same thing.

“It was an accident,” Luisa continued, her fingers drumming along her skirt. “I was covering for another doctor, and I got the rooms mixed up, and….” She took a deep breath. “It shouldn’t have even happened in the first place. Petra was there trying to use Raf’s sperm – she was supposed to see that other doctor instead of me – and _you know_ what that means with their contract—”

“Then you need to tell Raf,” Rose finally spoke, shifting against the sofa pillows. It seemed as though this was easier, couching things in terms of their legality.

Luisa’s lips pressed together, her gaze falling. “But that means telling him I inseminated someone else with his—”

“That isn’t your fault. Petra violated his trust and put you in a position to do the same thing. You couldn’t have known—”

“I don’t want him to hate me.” Luisa’s eyes flicked up then back down. Her fingers tangled together in her lap. “He’s going to be upset.”

Rose reached over and lifted Luisa’s face again so that their eyes could meet. “You know how I feel about Rafael—”

“_Yes._” Luisa’s teeth gritted together. Another old argument that she really didn’t feel like getting into right now.

“—but as mad as he might get, your father trained him well.” Rose brushed her fingers gently through Luisa’s hair again. “He won’t be upset with you.

Luisa nodded once, trying to accept what Rose was saying, but it didn’t sit well. “He might be if nothing happens with Jane…or if it does, but she decides not to keep the baby.”

“So tell her first.”

Luisa turned to fully face Rose, whose eyes were still focused fully on her. “Tell Jane first,” Luisa said, repeating the words a little slower, tasting them, considering them.

Rose wrapped a strand of Luisa’s hair around her finger. “Soulmates can’t testify against each other. You know that. She won’t be able to do anything to you. Your license will be fine. And,” here her eyes met Luisa’s, “this way she has a choice. Soulmates should offer each other a choice, shouldn’t they?”

Luisa crossed her arms again. “I didn’t really get a choice with you.”

“Because the consequences would be worse if—”

“I know.” Luisa leaned forward and gave Rose a gentle, chaste kiss. “Let’s not fight.”

Rose tried to reach across and bridge the distance between them again, but Luisa stopped her, pressing one hand to the center of her chest. The redhead moved her hand over Luisa’s, holding it there. “Why are you stopping me?”

“_Rafael is still going to hate me._”

Rose let out a deep breath and collapsed back against the couch again, glaring upwards. Her eyes scanned the ceiling before she asked, finally, “What’s the chance of it taking?”

“Twenty percent.”

“Then he doesn’t have to find out about it.” Rose pressed her lips together, still staring at the ceiling, then continued as though she were thinking out loud. “Tell this _Jane_ first.” She waved one hand in the air. “If she decides to risk it and if it catches in that twenty percent chance, _then_ you can explain it to Raf. Otherwise let _Petra_ explain, and he can be mad with her instead.” She grinned as she looked back at Luisa and shifted so that she was slightly closer to her. “Let Petra explain it anyway. Then you can step in and be the savior of his sperm – quite by accident, of course – and it’ll cover up any anger he has towards you.”

“And Jane—”

“—won’t hold it against you.” Rose reached over again and began to spiral strands of Luisa’s hair around her fingers. “There were a lot of soulmate cases when I was a lawyer, and you’ll find that even when some of the worst things happen – much worse than this – people hold tight to whomever their timer determines is their destiny. Defend them. Cover up for them. Their soulmate is the most important thing in their lives.” Her eyes remained focused on Luisa’s hair instead of her face. “Like you are the most important thing in my life and I would do anything for you.”

Luisa’s eyes lit up. “You would?”

Rose didn’t smile, but she nodded once, firm. Her eyes returned to meet Luisa’s. “_Tell her._”

Luisa nodded, breaking the eye contact, and swallowed once. “Tomorrow. We’re supposed to meet up for lunch. Get to know each other better. You could….” Her lips pressed together. “You could join us, if you want. In case she needs legal advice. Or in case you wanted to meet her.” Luisa’s eyes lifted. “Then, if Raf asks, it’s all legal. He’d understand that.”

“Not tomorrow,” Rose said, her voice firm but still gentle and soft, the same as Luisa’s had been talking with Jane only a few hours earlier. “I want to meet her eventually, but not tomorrow. I have a few things I need to address before your father returns.”

The breath caught in Luisa’s throat – she hated the mention of her father returning, not because she didn’t love him but because she didn’t like to think about him within the same space as her stolen time with her soulmate – and she took Rose’s hand in hers again. “Will you stay with me?” she asked, brushing her thumb along her skin. “After everything that’s happened, I need someone here with me.”

“Don’t say it,” Rose warned.

“I need _my soulmate_ here with me.”

Rose shook her head, but she couldn’t stop the smile that always crossed her face whenever those words were used. “You haven’t been drinking, have you?” she suddenly asked, her voice very soft.

Luisa’s eyes flicked over to the minibar. “Rafael took all the booze from my room,” she replied, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t snatch a bottle from downstairs. We own the place, after all. It’s not like it would hurt us.”

“I’ll stay.” Rose leaned over, turned Luisa’s face towards her again, and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Right here.” She kissed her again. “With you.” And again. “Until you think you’re more stable.” Her eyes traced Luisa’s face, searching for something.

Luisa hummed a bit and smiled, blushing. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft. And then, once more, as though the first time wasn’t enough, “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter /should/ finish this Jane-centric soulmate timer fic.
> 
> I plan on having three more - the next one is currently planned to be Rafael-centric, the one after that is planned to be Petra-centric, and then the last fic in this series should tie up dangling threads and finish it.
> 
> I've started Rafael's fic and I have a general idea of major parts of Petra's fic (and a working title, which I won't reveal here because it may change before I post it). Don't know when those will be done or posted, though. >.>;;;;;;;;;
> 
> For more updates and stuff like that, feel free to follow me on tumblr @ aparticularbandit.tumblr.com - I tend to post a lot about my fic projects and what I write and sometimes give hints about things that I don't as much here.
> 
> (ALSO I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOUR COMMENTS AND KUDOS!!!!! I KNOW I DON'T ANSWER THEM VERY OFTEN BUT I REALLY ENJOY GETTING THEM!!!!!)


	4. Chapter 4

Jane couldn’t sleep.

Notably, she _tried_ – really, she did, but she tossed and turned so much beneath her blankets that even while sleeping, she didn’t get any real rest. What few dreams she had were of the man she’d always imagined to be her soulmate – the one who had given her the only other kiss she’d ever had – standing just outside of her grasp and slowly turning to ash as soon as she drew near to him, as though her very touch made him crumble into salt. Sometimes, there was the sound of a ticking in the background, although the timer etched into her wrist never ticked. The sound started soft and slow at first, then grew steadily louder and faster until it was all she could hear and she couldn’t breathe.

So Jane woke up early – too early, when really it’s _yesterday_ she should have been up, so too early a little too late – and dragged herself, bleary eyed, into the kitchen. She didn’t rub a hand across her eyes as so many are wont to do – _that causes wrinkles_, she could hear Lina say in the background – but plodded her way over to the coffee maker, covering her mouth as she gave a huge yawn. There was no one to call, no one who needed to be updated about her situation – she hadn’t done what so many people her age had. She didn’t have a marriage contract, she hadn’t kept herself a boyfriend until her timer went off in the hopes that it might one day go off for him – neither of those seemed to end well for anyone, and her current soulmate’s situation seemed to confirm that.

For now, she’d kept it all to herself in an attempt to process it.

Not that her mom hadn’t asked. A lot. _A lot._ They’d been counting down the timer’s numbers together – Jane more excited than her mom had been, given Xo’s experience with her own timer – and when she’d returned and said that she wanted to leave it alone for a little while, Xo had been her greatest defender (while also still trying to figure out enough of what went wrong so that she could help).

It wouldn’t work forever, this trying to keep everything inside, just like she wanted to forget the man who had kissed her for the first time so many years ago and, despite all of her attempts to do so, he kept coming back again and again, even if it was just in her dreams. Her mom said it was because a girl never forgot her first kiss, and that was probably true. It wasn’t as though Jane had much experience with that. But no matter how much she consoled herself with that thought, she’d still thought it was something special.

Up until Luisa had kissed her.

As much as she hated to admit it, Luisa was _better_.

But maybe that was just a _girl_ thing, you know? Maybe girls were just _naturally_ better than guys were. Or maybe not. Maybe girls and guys were about equal, all things considered, and Luisa was _just that good_. She wouldn’t know unless she started kissing other people, but with Luisa, why would she want to?

Okay, so she could be _a little_ smug that her soulmate was a great kisser. Even if she _was_ a girl.

Which was part of why this was so confusing.

The mug of fresh coffee warmed her hands, and while the scent in and of itself wasn’t calming, it felt like home. Jane sprinkled a little bit of cinnamon into it without realizing what she was doing and stopped just as she placed the bottle back into its place in the cupboard. She turned to look at her coffee, as though it were betraying her, when really she had betrayed herself.

Maybe Luisa was only a good kisser because she was her soulmate. Maybe soulmates were naturally destined to be better kissers for each other than anyone else would be, so no matter who else Jane was with, they would never kiss as good as Luisa did. Which would mean that _she_ would never kiss _Luisa_ as well as _Luisa’s_ soulmate did.

**Stop.**

Thinking about all of that – _really_ thinking about it – was hard. It was easier to avoid it – or trivialize it with kissing comparisons as she was doing – especially considering how exhausted she felt. Whatever decision she made right now wouldn’t be a good one. She knew that. If there was even a decision to make. What could she do? She couldn’t change who her soulmate was.

Jane lifted her wrist. The glow had faded. Since she hadn’t hit the 24 hour mark yet, the zeroes were still in her skin, yet to be replaced by the blunt dashes that she would have in only a few more hours. She sighed.

**Since I have free time, I should try to write something**, Jane decided as she took her mug of coffee and moved to the dining room table with it. She didn’t want to write in her room right now; it seemed confining. _Everything_ felt confining right now. Like she’d melted into her little cocoon and hadn’t hatched yet.

_This is where I come in, friends!_

Jane didn’t stifle her groan, leaning forward until her head hit the table with a soft klunk. He didn’t shut up. He _never_ shut up. It’s like whatever glitch made her timer stop decided to leave itself permanently etched into her brain. Eight years later, and it’s still exhausting, even if the running dialogue _did_ make for easier writing.

**Fine. You’ve got**, and she glanced at the nearby clock, **an hour. Then you have to shut up.**

If the narrator had been more than a voice in her head, Jane was certain he would be smiling – probably at some sort of camera, with that little sparkle right at the edge of his smile and a wink with a twinkle in his eye – almost like Rogelio de la Vega, her favorite telenovela star (his age didn’t matter; he was _great_. besides, she grew up watching him, which was more important anyway). But, fortunately for her—

_You mean _un_fortunately!_

—right, _unfortunately_ for her, Jane couldn’t see the voice that wanted to narrate her entire life as though she were living in a telenovela (which she wasn’t). She could only hear it. And as she sat down at her laptop with the fresh mug of coffee next to her, she could hear him taking the events of the previous day and trying to change them from what seemed to be a hot mess into something she could almost make sense of – not _entirely_, of course, as there were far more things going on than she could guess at (as a writer, she knew that; the main characters – and secondary characters – never knew everything that was going on; even in fantasies when someone had visions or telepathy or _whatever_, there was still something they missed or couldn’t interpret). But at least writing and the narrative voice took all of the complicated emotions and made them…not less complicated, but more compact. Compartmentalized.

And, with them compartmentalized, Jane could continue on with her life.

With a soulmate…or without one.

There was only one thing she was really certain of as she continued to write. The coffee, plain as it might be, tasted better with a little bit of cinnamon.

* * *

Allison wasn’t there when Luisa returned to her apartment, but that didn’t matter. Her things were still there, and that was enough to let Luisa know that she’d made a good decision in not inviting Jane over to her place for lunch, even if she _had_ decided to take an additional day off from work. After the mistake of the previous day, it seemed best to take extra time off, and now that she’d found out she was someone else’s soulmate, the clinic allowed her that time without question.

That said, Luisa had invited Jane over to the Marbella for lunch instead. Against Rafael’s wishes (although he hadn’t said as much, she could feel it in the weight of his stare), she’d made her own grilled cheese sandwiches in the hotel’s kitchen. It’s not _her_ fault that he didn’t give her a room with a kitchenette. (By the end of the day, she would have one, if only because her brother, the hotel manager, didn’t want possible investors or clients complaining about her kitchen access or requesting it for themselves since she should be just a normal guest like they were – and he didn’t want to explain _that_ either.) And, by the time she and Jane made it to her room, the sandwiches were no longer burning hot but instead were that nice, comfortable sort of warmth that grilled cheese _should_ have – still hot enough for the cheese to melt in your mouth but not so much that it burned your tongue.

Luisa had a lot of practice with the whole _burning your tongue_ bit. It kind of ruined the flavor. Not good for this sort of meeting.

“Look,” Jane started as the door to Luisa’s hotel room closed behind her, “if you don’t want—” Then her eyes spotted the grilled cheese, and she stopped. There was a moment where Luisa could hear the cogs ticking as Jane tilted her head to one side. “Is that grilled cheese?”

Luisa smiled as she sat down on one end of the couch – but it’s awkward, and she was glad Jane was so focused on the sandwiches and not on her face. “You seemed interested in it yesterday, and I thought, well, why not.” Her lips pressed together. “Besides, I have something—”

“You’re not trying to—” Jane started to say at the exact same time, and they both broke off, laughing a little bit. “You go first,” Jane said, finally, as she sat down on the other end of the couch, taking one of the sandwiches and giving it a curious look.

At first, Luisa didn’t say anything, her hands wringing together as she watched Jane take her first bite instead. It would be so much easier to let Jane go first and then explain afterwards, but…. If she put this off, she wouldn’t do it at all. Rose was right about that.

Jane let out a contented sound, her eyes closing. “You were right. This _is_ good.” She tried to smile, but something about the expression on Luisa’s face gave her pause. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re pregnant,” Luisa said all at once, and then her eyes widened, her hands tightening on each other. “Well, no, you’re not. Yet. You’re not pregnant _yet_, but you might be _soon_, and it’s all my fault, and—” She took a deep breath and let it out before Jane could say anything. That was almost a relief. _Almost._ “I artificially inseminated you yesterday,” she continued, trying to meet Jane’s wide, startled eyes. “By accident,” she corrected. “I got your room mixed up with another appointment – a walk-in – at the same time, and I didn’t realize it until after our meeting – hers was that last appointment I told you about, remember? – and I wasn’t sure what to do, so I didn’t say anything, and—”

Luisa swallowed as she noticed how Jane was curling up closer and closer to the other end of the couch so that she was sitting farther and farther away from her. “I’m telling you _now_ so that…so that….” It didn’t matter that she had _expected_ Jane to be upset, the movement still hurt. “There are options.” Her voice took on that more formal conversational tone that she’d needed as a doctor. Good. That would help. “It’s not a sure thing. It’s only a twenty percent chance, but that may be twenty percent more than you’re willing to take, so—”

Jane swallowed and winced. The taste of the grilled cheese – which _had_ been good – must have been turning to bile in her mouth. Luisa knew that feeling, too. Nothing tasted good when you were in a state of shock.

Then Jane nodded once, slowly, and it seemed as though she weren’t really paying attention to everything that Luisa was saying anymore, probably just hearing those words – _pregnant_ and _not yet_ and _artificially inseminated_ rolling about in her mind over and over – and maybe trying to make sense of those words with _her soulmate_ as the perpetrator, and it’s that last one that would stick more than the others did.

Luisa understood what it was to have your soulmate drop a bombshell on you and having to come to terms with who they were. She’d done that same sort of grappling, a long, long time ago. Maybe this was how Rose had felt, watching her. Maybe not. Rose didn’t feel things the same way she did.

“So I’m…I’m pregnant.”

Luisa’s eyes glanced down to her fingers, which were interlaced together so tight that her skin was mottled white and red. “Not yet,” she said, her gaze returning to Jane. “We can flush everything out before that happens. There are pills and—”

“But if I don’t do those,” Jane continued, interrupting again, “there’s a chance I could be…I could be pregnant.”

Luisa hesitated, lips rolling together, and then nodded once. “Yes.” The room seemed hot. Too hot. Hotter even than the kitchen had been when she was five years old and trying to cook with her mother when they didn’t have any air conditioning and the heat of the oven combined with the Miami heat made them sticky with sweat. “But you don’t have to be.”

“Twenty percent chance.”

“If you don’t do anything, then yes.”

“And the other woman? Does she know?” Jane asked. When Luisa’s head tilted to one side, she elaborated. “Your other patient? The one who was supposed to be getting pregnant?”

Luisa froze, and her eyes widened again. Her gaze shifted away as she finally turned to face forward, instead of focusing on Jane. “No,” she said finally. It’s a long drawn out word, hesitant. “No,” she repeated, “she doesn’t.” Her lips pressed together again, and she pushed her hands through her hair. “I wasn’t going to tell her. _Them._ Not unless you—”

“Unless I _what_?” Jane snapped.

Luisa’s teeth dug into her lower lip. “It’s more complicated than that.”

* * *

Thirty minutes later – which somehow felt too short – and Jane was still sitting in Luisa’s hotel room with a half-eaten grilled cheese sandwich in her hands. It’s a little too cold now to be as good as it had been when she took that first magical bite, but she took another bite anyway. She wasn’t hungry, and it didn’t help. But she needed something physical to chew on while she mentally chewed on what Luisa had said. Her stomach roiled with nerves – or maybe it’s that child that she wasn’t pregnant with _yet_, even though she knew there was no way that was the case—

“So,” Jane said, trying to put it into words in the simplest way possible, “I might be pregnant with your brother’s last sperm sample.”

Luisa didn’t lift her head from where it rested in her hands. “Yes.”

“And you haven’t told him.”

“No.” Luisa took a deep breath and let it out again, pushing her hands back through her hair. “As far as I know, Petra hasn’t either. It’s in breach of their contract – or _would be_ if he’d had the cancer before they got married, but....” She glanced up, lips pressed together. “It’s probably an attempt to keep their marriage intact once his timer goes off. It’s supposed to end shortly beforehand, but a kid always makes that sort of thing complicated, even if she _isn’t_ his soulmate. It’s easier to stay married. Their contract covers _that_, and Petra’s supposed to take any kids with her, but given the situation—” Luisa stopped abruptly and shook her head. “You have to stop me rambling like that or I’ll keep talking and bringing up stuff you don’t want to hear. I’m bad about it. The talking thing.” She waved one hand between them. “No filter.”

“It’s okay,” Jane said, but it wasn’t okay, not really. She was still trying to make everything make sense. All of the neat and tidy compartmentalization she’d been able to gain from writing earlier was already threatening to overflow its neat little boxes, and that was a problem in and of itself. She’d felt overwhelmed before, but she wasn’t sure what to call this new feeling.

—which was a problem for a writer. Tended to end up in a lot of different words that were close to it but not like it. Really horrible thing.

But Jane wasn’t the one writing about this.

Yet.

“Can I…can I take a few days?” Jane asked. “To think about it?” She turned to Luisa, finally, and found the other woman looking up at her with an expression of something close to fear. “It’s a lot all at once, and I know you’re my soulmate, but you can’t expect this of me.”

Luisa nodded, and it’s with the same soft expression across her face that she’d worn so much the day before. She reached out, hesitated, and then finally steeled herself enough to place her hand on Jane’s, as though she were checking to make sure it was an action she would make with anyone and not just with someone to whom she was supposed to be a soulmate. “I don’t expect _anything_ from you, Jane. I’m telling you so you can make that decision yourself and not just find out in two weeks if somehow you _do_ end up pregnant.” She tried to smile, but it didn’t stick. “And whatever you decide, I’ll help. Trust me.”

“It’s a little hard to trust the woman who might have gotten me pregnant.”

Luisa winced. “It’s been overwhelming for me, too. Not just the soulmate thing. Other things.” She shook her head again and looked away. “That’s not an excuse. It sounds like an excuse, but it’s not. On most days, I’m _better_. Yesterday just…was not my day.” She sighed. “A lot of days aren’t my day.” She pressed her lips together, still staring away from Jane, and then took a deep breath and turned back to look at her with that same smile that wasn’t quite a smile – it was too sad. “But _not my day_ shouldn’t mean _ruining your life_.”

Even if it meant ruining her brother’s hopes for the future – Jane could hear that weight between them, even though it wasn’t said. But she wasn’t thinking about that right now. Or, really, she _was_, because she _had to_, because she didn’t know how to think about anything else.

Instead, Jane nodded, even if it was mostly to herself. She took another grilled cheese sandwich, which felt cold in her hands, and stood up. “I’m going to go, and I’m going to take this with me, and I’ll call you in a few days with my decision, okay? The baby won’t stick by then, will he?”

Luisa shook her head. “Two weeks. Before that—” She shook her head again, her words falling away.

“Okay. So. Three days. I’ve got three days. I’ll….”

Jane paused. It was easy to compartmentalize. Okay, in this case, it _wasn’t_ easy. She felt like she was about to overflow or explode or a lot of other cliché responses that didn’t really fit the situation. This wasn’t how her first conversations with her soulmate were supposed to go. This wasn’t how _any_ of this was supposed to go.

And yet, looking at the broken woman sitting next to her, Jane feels…something. Compassion, maybe, because that was something she apparently had in spades for everyone who deserved it least, but she didn’t think that was it. This was her soulmate, sitting next to her, devastated over…everything, just like she was, only much more, somehow. It took a moment of hesitation, but Jane placed her hand on Luisa’s back and rubbed it gently. “We’ll…get through this. Right?”

Luisa didn’t say anything, which was odd, and just nodded once.

Jane took a deep breath. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” Luisa asked, looking up, searching Jane’s face as though she expected her words to tear into her, as though she would bear the weight of it if that was what she wanted.

Instead – much to her own surprise – Jane bent down and kissed her. It was _better_ than her first attempt at it had been and far gentler than even Luisa’s had been. Short. Chaste. She really couldn’t do much more than that now.

When she pulled away, Jane pressed her lips together and nodded once. “I’ll…I’ll call you.”

And with that, Jane left.

* * *

Three days came and went.

Jane didn’t know how she kept it from coming out, didn’t know how she didn’t tell her abuela, her mom, _Lina_ – but somehow, some way, she didn’t say anything. She could be good about keeping secrets when she needed to be. Or maybe it was just that she was still making pros and cons lists and writing about it over and over – the different scenarios – in an attempt to make sense of everything from someone else’s perspective.

She knew, somehow, that if she waited too long, if she became pregnant, that she would keep the baby. There was no question about that. Even if she only kept it to hand it over to the father, she knew that she would keep it. Her soulmate – her soulmate’s _brother_. It’d be a good thing, wouldn’t it? And she’d be helping out—

Not that it mattered if she was helping out her soulmate.

Luisa was supposed to complete her, not the other way around. She wasn’t going to pretend that it was anything other than that.

There was a weight to it, then, when Jane finally called her soulmate back. Her heart froze a bit when she heard Luisa’s voice on the other side of the phone, and she didn’t know if it’s a good sort of anticipation or a bad one, but her voice was quiet when she said, finally, “Twenty percent chance, right?”

“Right.”

Luisa’s voice was soft. She thought, maybe, that Luisa was and would always be soft with her. She thought that maybe Luisa didn’t know how not to be.

“I’ll take the risk.”


End file.
